Chapter 144

Chapter 144

Luo Yan took a deep breath and suddenly rose to his feet.

Facing the King of Zhao, Xiao Wansheng, the young man offered a solemn bow, his voice clear and resolute:

“I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty’s boundless grace, and I hold it in my heart with utmost reverence. However, I, as a foreign subject, have long had a beloved to whom I am betrothed. The honor of being adopted as a son is a privilege beyond my station, and I dare not accept it. I humbly beg Your Majesty’s understanding.”

The roguish smirk vanished from Xiao Che’s face in an instant. He had clearly not anticipated Luo Yan’s refusal. Fixing his gaze on Luo Yan, his phoenix eyes—so like his father’s—held no anger at the rejection, but instead burned with a fiercer, more possessive spark of desire to conquer.

“Oh?” Xiao Che drawled, a wicked grin curling at the corner of his lips. He leaped down from his seat, strolled over to Luo Yan, and looked down at him. “So it’s because you have a sweetheart that you turned me down?”

He circled Luo Yan once, his demeanor brimming with arrogant confidence. “No matter! What I love most is taking what’s other people’s! You can keep thinking about your beloved—it won’t stop you from marrying me.” The young man suddenly leaned in, lowering his voice, “Once the deed is done, let’s see if you can still… Ow!”

Before he could finish, Xiao Wansheng smacked him solidly on the back of the head.

“Dad! Why’d you hit me again!” Xiao Che cried out, clutching his head in indignation.

Xiao Wansheng looked at his unruly son, feeling a vein throb at his temple. He sighed wearily and rubbed his brow. “I think you need a good thrashing!” He turned to Luo Yan, his expression shifting to one of imperial dignity and a hint of curiosity. “Luo Yan, don’t mind this brat. Besides refusing me, what’s the real reason for your visit?”

Luo Yan: “…”

Collecting himself, Luo Yan bowed once more and stated the purpose of his journey: “I come on the orders of my emperor to seek friendly relations between our two countries and to jointly resist external foes. I humbly request that Your Majesty consider forming an alliance with Da Xi.”

“An alliance?” Xiao Wansheng thought for a moment without answering right away. He sent his attendants away, leaving only Xiao Che, before slowly revealing the current state of the world. He spoke of the surging rebel forces across the land, their intricate and tangled power structures, and a hidden hand pulling the strings, making the situation so treacherous that it transcended the affairs of a single nation or clan.

Luo Yan listened quietly. When the King of Zhao finished, the young man raised his eyes, showing wisdom and compassion beyond his years. He spoke slowly, his words hitting straight to the heart:

“Your Majesty sees clearly! In these times, flames of war rage everywhere, the common people are displaced, and the starving litter the roads. I’ve seen with my own eyes the horror of parents swapping kids for food, heard an old woman weeping by the ruins at night, and touched the cold, stiff bodies of soldiers on the battlefield, many of them no older than me.”

His voice was not loud, but every word was distinct:

“Da Xi, Zhao, the Western Desert, the northern territories, and the various rebel armies—all fight for the realm, for power, for that single word ‘king.’ Yet the foundation of this vast land and splendid state isn’t the cold dragon throne or the imperial seal, but the countless farmers tilling the fields, the merchants toiling in the markets, the scholars studying by lamplight—in every common person who prays for peace and a good night’s rest.”

His words seemed to cut through the palace halls, crossing the city walls to fall upon the vast world beyond:

“Water can float a boat, but it can also capsize it. Emperors and generals, after a hundred years, all become dust; only the unending life of the people keeps civilization alive. This realm has never been the realm of one man; it is, in truth, the realm of all people. Whoever claims supremacy, if they can’t ease the people’s suffering, calm their hearts, or restore their fortunes, even if they ascend to the highest throne, they’re just building a dangerous tower on a foundation of bleached bones. One day, it will crumble in the flood of the people’s will.”

The young man bowed deeply once more to Xiao Wansheng:

“Your Majesty, an alliance is not merely for resisting external aggression. It is to protect the spark of civilization in this chaotic world, to fight for a chance for the common people to catch a break, to find a path to survival! This is the great path that goes beyond any single dynasty, nation, or clan!”

His speech ended, each word landing with force.

Xiao Wansheng stood there, frozen, gazing at the extraordinary young man before him. The light in his eyes was no longer just appreciation for talent, but a deep shock and respect from the bottom of his soul.

After a long moment, Xiao Wansheng slowly exhaled a turbid breath, his voice as steady as a rock: “Luo Yan, today, I’ve truly been taught a lesson.”

He stepped forward and personally helped the bowing young man to his feet, gently placed a hand on his shoulder, his gaze earnest and solemn: “Remember my words. In the future, if storms block your path, tie you down, or leave you with nowhere to go, Zhao will always be your second home.”

Luo Yan’s eyes welled up. The days of tireless effort and persistence had finally paid off. He bowed deeply again, “I… thank Your Majesty for your boundless kindness.”

In the end, weighing the practical interests and long-term well-being of both countries, Xiao Wansheng drew up fair and mutually acceptable terms for the alliance. Luo Yan’s heart leaped with joy—this meant he had overcome another seemingly impossible challenge, fulfilling his second mission!

On the day of his departure from Zhao, King Zhao Xiao Wansheng and Crown Prince Xiao Che personally saw him off at the pavilion outside the city. Though Xiao Che still had a sour look on his face, he didn’t say anything else shocking, just snorted and turned away, seeing him off a long way.

Luo Yan carried the alliance treaty stamped with Zhao’s national seal tucked in his robe, followed by a convoy loaded with diplomatic gifts, and set out on his return journey. After traveling over a hundred li, he found a secluded mountain hollow, took out a prepared fine silk secret letter, and skillfully tied it to a carrier pigeon’s leg.

The white dove flapped its wings, pierced the sky, and vanished into the vast horizon.

.

At the Nine Abyss Alliance, on the Observation Platform.

A man in black robes stood leaning against the railing, as if sensing something. He extended his hand, and a carrier pigeon landed on his fingertip. Zhongli Jinyue untied the letter and unfolded it.

The paper bore only a few words, in A-Yan’s handwriting:

“Alliance secured, safe, returning.”

A smile had just begun to curl at the corner of Zhongli Jinyue’s lips when his gaze suddenly froze. At the very bottom of the letter, in tiny, almost imperceptible script, nestled in the corner:

“I miss my brother.”

Zhongli Jinyue was stunned. He pressed the letter to his chest, clutching it silently.

In truth, he had not abided by his agreement to wait quietly at the Nine Abyss Alliance. To ensure Luo Yan’s safe return, he had secretly dispatched men to clear the remnants of rebel forces along the route, and had even gone out himself several times to eliminate hidden dangers.

Just then, an anomaly surfaced.

According to prior intelligence, the rebel leader was named Liu Bing. Yet his planted spies had sent back a bizarre report: at nearly the same hour, two “Liu Bings” had appeared in locations a thousand li apart. One of them had already slipped toward the capital, his trail lost.

This was no coincidence.

Soon after, an urgent report came from the Alliance: the other man, identical in appearance to Liu Bing, had returned to the capital and walked straight into the mansion of Privy Councilor Liu Bing.

Zhongli Jinyue’s eyes darkened.

That left only one possibility.

Thinking of Luo Yan potentially being ambushed on his return, the man leaped down from the Observation Platform. His cloak billowed as he mounted his horse. The steed let out a long neigh and galloped toward the capital.

The sound of hooves shattered the twilight, raising a plume of dust.

*

Luo Yan reunited with the soldiers who had fought alongside him at the border, and they traveled back to the capital, dusty and weary, to report on their mission.

But when they were still a hundred paces from the city gate, they found it tightly shut, with guards densely stationed on the walls. The atmosphere was grim and tense, far from ordinary.

Luo Yan’s heart sank. He spurred his horse forward and called out, “Where is the city gate commander?”

“I am Luo Yan, returning to the capital by imperial decree to report! Open the gates at once!”

The gates remained unmoved.

The young man frowned and raised his voice, “Why are the gates closed!”

The city gate commander leaned over the wall, his face somber, and replied loudly, “Young Marquis! It is not that I dare defy military orders, but a sudden plague has broken out in the city, spreading everywhere! His Majesty has issued a strict decree to close the city for epidemic control. All outsiders are strictly forbidden from entering or exiting!”

“Plague?” Luo Yan’s heart shook violently. This was entirely unexpected. He pressed urgently, “My sister, Luo Zhiheng, is in the city. How is she?!”

The commander hesitated, stammering as he was about to speak, when a figure slowly walked out from atop the city wall, raising a hand to dismiss him.

The man wore a civil official’s robe, his face appearing honest and kind. He was the Privy Councilor, known for his virtue and loyalty in court—Liu Bing.

Seeing an old acquaintance, Luo Yan grasped at a thread of hope. “Lord Liu! Do you know how my sister is? Is she safe?”

Liu Bing stood on the high city wall, looking down at Luo Yan below. His usual warm smile now seemed distant and cold. He did not answer the question about Luo Zhiheng. Instead, he straightened up, a hint of surprise and doubt in his voice: “Luo Yan? Why are you returning to the capital at this time?”

Suppressing his anxiety, Luo Yan cupped his hands and said solemnly, “Lord Liu, the three tasks entrusted to me by His Majesty have all been successfully completed. I am now returning by decree to report! Though there is a plague in the city, I beg you to make an exception—allow me to enter alone, so I may see my sister!”

“…Successfully completed?”

Liu Bing seemed to have heard the greatest joke in the world, his voice suddenly rising, each word dripping with biting cold: "You, a man still bearing the stain of guilt, dare to say 'mission accomplished'? What right or nerve do you have to beg to enter the city at this moment?!"

"Have you no shame before this glorious capital that raised you, or before His Majesty's past grace?!"

Luo Yan was stunned by the harsh rebuke, then furrowed his brow and asked, "Lord Liu, what do you mean? Please speak plainly!"

"Mean?" Liu Bing sneered coldly, his gaze piercing Luo Yan, each word a dagger to the heart. "Fine! I'll spell it out for you!"

"When His Majesty originally gave you three tasks, each was as hard as climbing to heaven, meant to make you back off and think about your mistakes! And you, in such a short time, claim to have 'completed' them all? Doesn't that raise suspicion?!"

He pointed at Luo Yan, his voice echoing across the city walls, with a righteous accusation:

"You claim to have crushed the Western Desert rebellion—who's to say you didn't secretly collude with the rebel army, staging a 'the thief cries thief' act to rack up so-called 'military glory' for yourself?!"

"You claim to have visited the reclusive master of the Nine Abyss Alliance—who's to say you didn't use that pretty face of yours to commit vile deeds, charming that Alliance Leader into doing your bidding, a national scourge?!"

"And you say you sealed an alliance with the King of Zhao? Ha! Everyone knows the King of Zhao is a born brute, yet he took a shine to you of all people? Who's to say your return isn't a scheme to collude with Zhao, to open the gates from inside and hand over the vast lands of Da Xi to the enemy?!"

His gaze finally fell on Luo Yan's pale face, and he hurled the most venomous accusation with force:

"And you, leaving your gravely ill sister in the capital—supposedly as a hostage to ease His Majesty's mind—is actually a poison scheme you plotted long ago! You had her bring this deadly plague into the capital city, to throw the court into chaos and rattle the nation's foundation!"

"Luo Yan! You, a treacherous, ungrateful, disloyal, unfaithful monster, dare to march back with your army today, trying to claim credit and rewards? This is unheard of—heaven and earth won't stand for it!"

Silence fell all around.

Just then, a soldier's shout sliced through the air from the city wall: "Traitor!"

Those three words caught like wildfire, igniting the silence atop the wall.

"Traitor!"

"Traitor!"

"Traitor!"

The cries swelled and grew fiercer, until they became a deafening condemnation:

"Traitor, get out!"

...

Luo Yan's grip on the reins tightened until his knuckles went white.

Behind him were the men who had fought and bled alongside him, bound in life and death. Ahead was the iron-closed city gate, the very gate that once saw him off to battle and awaited his return, now treating him like a plague and shutting him out.

The wind howled, sweeping across the city front, stirring the boy's dust-covered robes and the dark red hairband, making Luo Yan's upright figure look even more alone, hiding a barely controlled tremor.

He had fought on battlefields, brushed death many times, his body covered in scars, old and fresh, all to fulfill his mission, clear his name, and save his country. Yet now, the city he protected, the nation he guarded, had shut him out, drowning him in a wave of infamy.

The boy slowly lifted his eyes, his clear gaze cutting through the dusty air, meeting Liu Bing's eyes on the city wall. His voice, quiet but steeped in sorrow and resolve:

"I demand to see His Majesty."

The soldiers behind him could no longer contain themselves. They stepped forward, veins bulging, voices like thunder:

"Lord Liu! We followed the Young Marquis on the Western Campaign and saw him lead the charge to quell the rebellion, suffering repeated severe injuries! How can you, with empty words, slander a loyal subject?!"

"Colluding with rebels? Using seduction? Treason?! This is the most absurd nonsense! It's a trumped-up charge if ever there was one!"

"We want to see His Majesty! Let His Majesty investigate! Clear our general's name!"

The crowd seethed with anger, their voices shaking the heavens.

Liu Bing faced the surging tide below, but merely stood with his hands behind his back, revealing a cold smile: "See His Majesty? You traitors and rebels are unworthy to disturb the sacred presence!"

His voice turned harsh: "His Majesty has long seen through your schemes! I stand here today on His Majesty's orders, to strictly prevent you from wreaking havoc in the capital!"

With that, Liu Bing swiftly waved his sleeve and gave a stern command:

"Release the arrows!"

In an instant, the bowstrings on the city wall twanged, and countless arrows, like a dense rainstorm, descended with a shrill whistling sound toward Luo Yan and his men below!

Though Luo Yan's personal guards were seasoned veterans hardened by countless battles, the sudden attack caught them off guard. So close and never expecting such treachery at the capital's gates, they had no time to dodge. Cries of agony erupted, and within moments, over a dozen fell, struck by arrows, their blood staining the dust.

"Retreat! Fall back!" Luo Yan shouted, his eyes blazing with fury, urgently ordering his men to withdraw and find cover. But he himself spurred his horse forward, not retreating but charging like a moth to a flame toward the tightly shut city gate, braving the rain of arrows! He swung his whip, deflecting arrows, buying his men a chance to survive.

"Thud!" "Thud!"

Several dull sounds of blades piercing flesh followed. Arrows embedded themselves in his shoulder, arm, and thigh! The searing pain hit him, and Luo Yan's body lurched violently. He groaned, his face instantly turning deathly pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

Yet he only gritted his teeth, his eyes fixed on the city gate, as if oblivious to the pain, and continued to spur his horse forward.

Seeing this from the city wall, Liu Bing was both shocked and enraged, shouting harshly: "Criminal Luo Yan! What do you think you're doing?! Resisting arrest will only add to your crimes!"

Luo Yan looked up, letting arrows whistle past his ears, his voice carrying a breathless pain as it reached the city wall: "Liu Bing! Whether I, Luo Yan, am guilty or not is for His Majesty to decide! But before that judgment, the three tasks His Majesty entrusted to me are all completed! Since there was a promise, it must be kept—let me see my sister! I will take her and leave the capital immediately, without a moment's delay!"

"See your sister?" Liu Bing seemed to hear the most absurd joke in the world, his smile twisting as he shouted: "And you still dare to negotiate at a time like this? Fine! I shall grant your wish today and let you see her!"

Liu Bing waved his hand, as if prepared for this.

Two soldiers dragged a frail figure to the battlements. It was Luo Zhiheng! She was even thinner than when Luo Yan had left, her face pale and bloodless, her lips cracked, clearly worn down by illness and imprisonment.

Seeing her brother below, covered in blood and pierced by arrows yet still standing tall, her eyes instantly reddened. Tears streamed down her face. She struggled desperately, making muffled sounds, as if something blocked her throat, unable to utter a single word.

"Zhi Heng!" Luo Yan's heart felt as if it were being torn apart.

Liu Bing stood behind Luo Zhiheng, hands clasped behind his back, looking down at him from above, a cruel smile curling at the corner of his mouth: "What a touching scene of sibling love! Aren't you desperate to see her? To take her away?"

The old minister's smile suddenly turned icy:

"I shall grant your wish and let you siblings—reunite!"

Before the words faded, a vicious glint flashed in Liu Bing's eyes. He reached out, grabbed Luo Zhiheng by the back of her collar, and hurled the frail girl, too weak to even struggle, from the high city wall!

Luo Yan's pupils contracted. He spurred his horse forward, hooves kicking up clouds of dust.

Ignoring the searing pain from the arrows embedded in his body, he leaped from his horse, diving through the air, stretching out his arms, using his own body as a cushion. In the final moment, he caught his falling sister in his arms!

The immense impact felt as if it would shatter every bone in his body. A piercing pain shot through his arms, which quickly went numb and lost all sensation, as if they no longer belonged to him.

The boy gasped, his chest heaving violently from the pain and suffocation. He looked down at his sister, her eyes closed, her breath faint, and felt as if his heart had been gouged out.

Luo Zhiheng coughed up a mouthful of blood, her voice weak: "Brother..."

Luo Yan wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, wrapped her tightly in his cloak, and held her close as he mounted his horse. With his back to the arrows still raining down from the city wall, he shielded his sister against his chest, his voice trembling but controlled as he spurred his horse away: "Don't be afraid. Brother is taking you home."

But in all the world, they no longer had a home.

Right after they got away, Luo Yan called for the medic traveling with them.

The medic checked her over, then said grimly, "The young lady's been worn down for a long time, and her old injuries were never properly taken care of. Sir, to be honest, that Thousand-Year Snow Lotus you pawned your family jade for... I don't think it was ever given to her after you left the capital."

"Now, with a plague on top of that, and the fall damaging her internal organs, without some miracle herb or pill to keep her going... she doesn't have much time left."

Luo Yan's fists were clenched so tight his knuckles went white, shaking with fury. He sucked in a breath, forcing back the heat in his chest and the coppery taste in his mouth, and made up his mind—he'd go to the Nine Abyss Alliance.

If anyone in this world could save Zhi Heng, it was Zhongli Jinyue.

He bit his finger, using blood for ink and a scrap of cloth for paper, and scribbled out a desperate plea for help, and told his most trusted man to race it to the Nine Abyss Alliance.

What he didn't know was that right then, Zhongli Jinyue, worried sick about him, had dropped everything at the Alliance and was already galloping toward the capital with his best men.

One headed to the capital, one leaving it.

The two groups, swallowed by dust and distance, passed each other without a word.

The ride to the Nine Abyss Alliance was rough, and Luo Yan could feel Zhi Heng's breath getting shallower, her face turning gray. Panicking, he pressed the medic again: "Besides the Snow Lotus, is there really nothing else that can save her?"

The medic hesitated, then lowered his voice, "There's a rumored miracle herb called Moon Blue Grass... Yeah, Moon Blue Grass might work. It's supposed to be a specific cure for plague toxins. If she can take it and flush out the sickness, she might get strong enough to last until we find something else. But... I've heard it only grows in the Mist Valley out on the western edge of the desert."

Looking at his sister, barely breathing in his arms, Luo Yan knew there was no other choice. He changed course on the spot, heading straight for the Misty Hidden Valley in the Western Desert. He told the surviving soldiers to go, not to risk their lives for him anymore.

But instead, they all dropped to their knees, their oaths thundering across the wasteland:

"Young Marquis! We'll follow you to the death!"

"Every time we charged into battle, you dragged us back from death's door. Our lives are yours!"

"Live or die together, we won't leave you."

Luo Yan looked at those familiar faces—his brothers who'd bled beside him on the battlefield—and his throat closed up. A heavy ache settled in his chest, stinging his eyes.

The road to the Misty Hidden Valley was even more dangerous than the ambush outside the capital. They were hit by Ximo soldiers over and over, pushed through forests thick with poison mist, and crossed deadly mountain trails. Luo Yan led from the front, old wounds still open and new ones piling up, but he didn't seem to feel a thing—driven by one obsession: finding the Moon Blue Grass.

After cheating death over and over, they finally broke through every obstacle and stepped into the legendary, hidden Misty Hidden Valley. The valley was creepy and full of danger, but finally, on a shaded cliff face, they found the Moon Blue Grass, blooming with tiny pale blue flowers!

He picked it carefully, ignoring his own wounds and exhaustion, and sprinted back to camp. But when he brought the crushed juice to his sister's lips, Luo Zhiheng's eyes were shut tight, her breath so faint he could barely feel it. She didn't even have the strength to swallow—the juice just dribbled down the corner of her mouth.

"General! The Ximo army's caught up! They've linked up with the rebels and surrounded the valley entrance!" A blood-soaked soldier stumbled in with an urgent report.

Luo Yan's heart clenched. He stashed the rest of the Moon Blue Grass, tied his sister securely to his back, and swung onto his horse: "Pull back!"

Hooves pounded, shattering the valley's silence. Bent over the horse's back, Luo Yan could feel his sister's faint breath on his neck.

Her voice came from behind, a little stronger than before: "Brother... are we going home?"

Luo Yan pressed his dry lips together, holding back a sob. His little sister hadn't been able to talk in a long time. He hummed, "Yeah, brother's taking you home."

Luo Zhiheng weakly lifted her hand to hug him, but accidentally touched the tip of an arrow still stuck in his back. Luo Yan's whole body jolted, his teeth gritted, but he didn't make a sound.

Her voice was tiny, "Brother's hurt again."

"It's nothing." Luo Yan reached back and held her hand, his warmth seeping through the blood-soaked cloth. "Your brother's not like normal people; even if I get hurt, I heal fast."

"But brother still hurts."

Luo Yan's nose stung, bitterness flooding his throat. He said quietly, "It's just a little pain, it's nothing. But Heng'er, you've been choking down bitter medicine for so long, sick all this time—that's the real hard part."

After a moment, Luo Zhiheng's voice faded, heavy with exhaustion and reluctance: "Brother, you're too tired... If there's a next life, don't push yourself so hard..."

"Brother's not tired," Luo Yan said right away, slowly tightening his arms.

"Brother... in the next life... don't be immortal anymore..." Her voice got smaller, like it might disappear into the wind any second. "Just be a normal person... Then brother wouldn't have to keep going to war..."

Luo Yan's tears finally uncontrollably fell, mingling with the blood and grime on his face. He said, "Brother promises you."

Luo Zhiheng asked, "Are we almost home?"

Luo Yan's throat tightened, suppressing the surging bitterness: "Mm, almost there, just a little longer. Hang on, Heng'er; brother is taking you home."

Luo Zhiheng responded, "...Okay."

Slowly, Luo Yan felt the hands that had been weakly wrapped around his waist fall limply.

Behind him, there was no more sound.

He called out a few times, but there was no response.

Only the howling wind and the increasingly close shouts of pursuers answered him.

Warm tears, like a burst dam, instantly flooded his eyes, mixing with blood and sweat, dripping from his jaw onto the back of his hand, one drop at a time.

Luo Yan's warhorse burst through the encirclement.

The vast yellow sand rolled in with a thick smell of blood, the view a blur of brown.

If this continued, they would be annihilated, and ahead lay the Black Wind Pass.

He reined in his horse and slowly stopped.

Luo Yan lifted his sister's body down, handed it to a trusted soldier, instructing him to bury her, and ordered them to go ahead while he held the rear.

The soldiers refused, but he had already turned, drawing his sword and standing in the center of this blood-soaked land. His blood-stained silver armor glinted in the dim light. He reversed his grip and slowly drew the Jade Spirit Sword.

From all directions, the remnants of the Ximo army and the rebels merged into a black tide, surging toward his solitary figure. War horns wailed, banners fluttered.

The young man raised his sword and charged forward.

The sword light was like a ribbon of silk, weaving through the enemy ranks. He felt no pain. When his shoulder was slashed open by an enemy blade, blood gushing out, he only staggered, steadied himself, and continued to swing his sword.

His consciousness grew hazy from blood loss and exhaustion. Often, he would collapse for just a moment, only for his blood-stained eyelashes to stubbornly lift again, a flame of defiance burning in his eyes, propping him up to stand and fight once more.

He didn't know how many he had killed. Wound after wound covered his body. His silver armor was soaked through with blood, indistinguishable from his own or his enemies'.

Until his last ounce of strength was spent, he could no longer hold on. His knees gave way, and he fell heavily onto the pile of corpses, unable even to lift a finger.

The Jade Spirit Sword clattered to the ground with a ring.

He took one last look in the direction behind him, then his body pitched forward, sinking into endless darkness.

After an unknown time—perhaps an instant, perhaps an eternity—

A steady footstep slowly approached from afar, the tip of a sword dragging along the ground, producing a grating sound that set one's teeth on edge.

The person stopped before him, casting a shadow over him. In the silence, a low laugh suddenly rang out, carrying an indescribable tone:

"Luo Yan, the world calls you the Undefeated General, the invincible legend of Da Xi."

"You talked the Zhao Emperor into making peace between the two nations; braved the northern wasteland's freeze till they waved the white flag; and got Zhongli Jinyue so hooked he lost his mind over you."

His voice had a bit of awe, a bit of sneer, and a hint of... barely hidden fear.

"A guy like you, who could flip the world on its head."

"How the hell did you... end up dead here?"

Luo Qianyu tried to pry his eyes open to see who it was, but his lids felt like lead. He mustered his last bit of strength to squint up through the blur—

When he finally made out the guy's clothes, they were rebel gear.

And that face...

It was a dead ringer for Liu Bing, that "loyal minister" who'd shut him out of the capital and trashed him!

His heart lurched. Then a razor-sharp pain, like nothing he'd ever felt, ripped through his chest!

"Thud—"

The cold Jade Spirit Sword punched clean through his heart.

...

...

Zhongli Jinyue once said to him, "A-Yan, don't run yourself ragged."

But with all that weight on his shoulders, he could never stop.

Now, finally, he'd get to stop.

Too bad he'd never see his parents' faces again.

And he'd never get to keep his promise to marry his brother.

Jumbled, messy memories flooded in like a wave. Ever since he was a kid, he'd always heard voices.

The old stargazer from the Imperial Observatory sighed, "Luo Yan is the Heaven's Child."

The strict tutor, brandishing a ruler, said, "Luo Yan, you wanna be a no-good slacker?"

His army buddies laughed, "Luo Yan? Ha, that guy's unkillable—he can pop his own arm back on!"

His father, heavy with hope, said, "Luo Yan, don't throw away your gifts."

The emperor's icy order rang out, "Luo Yan, come back from the north a winner."

...

Those voices came from everywhere, weaving into an invisible net that trapped him tight.

That fiery young scholar in red on a fine horse—the top exam scorer—had, somewhere along the way, lost the light in his eyes.

Being Luo Yan was just too damn hard.

That name carried too many hopes, too much weight, too heavy a chain.

Only as "Luo Qianyu" could he be free and easy, truly happy.

If there was a next life, he didn't want to be Luo Yan again.

If there was another world, he just wanted to be Luo Qianyu.

The wind whispered by. Everything went silent.

Luo Yan died, and the whole world grieved with him.

*

*

In the years after, at the border of the Western Desert and Da Xi, freak blizzards never let up, winds howling, sealing the roads, storms raging nonstop, like they were screaming against the wrong, a long wail for the world's dead.

...

In a quiet study in a Jiangnan water town.

A young scholar named Su He listened to a traveling storyteller spin the tale of the once-famous general who'd died with his wrongs unavenged.

When the storyteller finished, the room went dead quiet.

Only Su He was crying, tears streaming, unable to pull himself together for a long time.

That night, Su He went home, his heart churning, tossing and turning in bed. He lit an oil lamp, and in the dim yellow glow, laid out some rice paper and ground some thick ink.

Finally, he picked up his brush, driven by a strong urge. He couldn't let a figure like that be buried in the snow, forgotten by time, and twisted by the powerful.

He'd use his pen to turn this story—of glory, love and hate, injustice and fight—into a book.

To win that young general a name after death, to leave behind a legend that'd never die.

He raised his brush, dipped it in ink, his face dead serious. After a moment, he said, "The title will be—"

Su He thought for a second, and as if guided by some higher power, he wrote two big characters:

"Chasing the Crane."

But the name "Luo Yan" was already off-limits back then, too touchy to say out loud. The main character's name in the book would obviously have to be changed.

What to call him?

Su He frowned, thinking, his gaze drifting to the window without meaning to. The moonlight was like water, cold and distant.

A spark of inspiration hit him. The name needed to be clear as jade, untouched by the world's grime, a pure soul unstained by anything cheap.

Su He's eyes lit up. Without a second thought, he dipped his brush and wrote solemnly at the top of the manuscript. He muttered, "Then let's change it to—"

Two graceful characters slowly appeared:

"Wen Yu."

Author's Note:

A lot of the foreshadowing hints in the comments are spot on, like:

1. The wrongs the Young Marquis once fixed were actually the ones he'd suffered himself—like beating the drum to appeal for justice, restoring his reputation, the Thousand-Year Snow Lotus, winning back the heirloom jade pendant, burning the indenture contract... Seemed like it was about Wen Yu, but it was really him redeeming his own past.

2. Because the Young Marquis is the protagonist, every time he interferes with Wen Yu's original plot, the events shift onto himself.

Because this was always his story.

3. Hence the "everyone-loves-me" trait shifting over, the fake Wen Yu, the real Luo Yan.

4. Earlier in the story, the emperor got suspicious and got his hands on a letter sent to the Nine Abyss Alliance for help—it was in the Young Marquis's handwriting, the same blood letter from this chapter.

5. This is not a narcissistic romance story.